Welcome Us For 5 Minutes

Say hello
for the five minutes
we are here,
the five minutes
we hang around
this bubble stocked corner.
To sing
to paint,
and turn murder into portraits
we are a band
of wasps with lethal anchors.

A savage breed
with frail egos and limits,
the kind of punks
that cowboys follow,
dead angels in the sand.
We curse
and spit,
we drink
and die,
reflections whom
you never dared to be.

Dead men with bold
stores of Life,
stacked to deliver wisdom
and shrug off moderation,
fat men with thin hips.
We point towards
columns of sanity,
we mad
the crazed,
dying fevered bards.
Frosted shades
over stale and modern graves...

@Steven Francis poems 2010